Playing God
by Jubalii
Summary: When Integra is informed of "Project AA" which involves her carrying a snot-nosed, squirmy child across Europe to the Vatican, she's less than pleased. But along the way, major questions in the nature and operations of the project leave her scrambling for loopholes as she strives to do the right thing-which may not be the most popular.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I don't know where this came from. It's _sort of_ humorous, but the underlying problems that Integra faces in the story are actually relatable to problems in the real world, like stem-cell research or the separation of church and state. I'm getting all political in this one.

Also, a memo**: I don't own Hellsing**. I always forget to write that out on my fics. I mean, if I did own Hellsing, it'd be an ongoing series right now. But that only happens in my dreams.

* * *

Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing didn't like children. To be totally honest, she thought the notion of screaming, snotty, dirty hell spawn to be both unappealing and nauseating. She despised the little rapscallions, and they usually felt the same way. Three years of required "Bring-your-child-to-work-day" had proved that to be a very moot point. Integra found that although her "cold-blooded nature" had left her without many friends, she was able to bear the solitude cheerfully in her study among books and paperwork. After all, if she wanted company there was always Walter and Seras. (As for Alucard, he was merely an overgrown, slightly-less-snotty child.)

It was that very point that she was trying to make to Lieutenant-General Walsh as he stood across from her desk, his resolve unwavering. He'd barged in (unannounced as usual) and had practically ordered Integra into a mission as if she'd been one of his battalion. When she'd heard the nature of the operation, she'd steadfastly refused.

"I am a Protestant Knight, _not _a babysitter! I refuse to drag some filthy brat across an entire continent for your pleasure," she snapped hatefully, her hands on her hips. Lt. Walsh growled before taking a deep breath and pulling a package of cigarettes from his pocket. He slid the slender stick between his lips, holding with his teeth as he spoke.

"You have no say in the matter, Lady Hellsing. The Vatican insists upon you coming with the child, to prove that you're giving it away of your own free will. Letters can be forged, and phone calls can be coerced-but coming in person forgoes any chance of retaliation on England's part." He shrugged half-heartedly and gave her a weary look.

"This child is not royalty, nor is it of any importance to the Organization. I don't see why I have to prove that I'm giving it up when it was never mine to begin with." Integra picked up the manila folder on her desk and eyed the stamped "Project AA" on the front. "So what-a baby from England was chosen to be the next Regenerator. Why can't the Vatican send that no-good hunk of bigotry Anderson to pick-" she peeked at the birth certificate, "her up?" When no answer came, Integra glanced up to see Lt. Walsh looking rather uncomfortable. "What's the matter?"

"Technically…she is your child. Well, she shares 50% of your DNA. 50% Hellsing, 50% Regenerator. 100% Vampire-fighting machine." Integra blinked as the implications set in. She coughed, took out a cigar, lit it and took a deep drag before crushing it in her hand and slamming her fist on the desk.

"You mean this brat is my _daughter_?! How did-how _dare_-Why did you think-" she sputtered, too furious to make a complete sentence. Lt. Walsh backed away slowly, his hands in the air as he faced down the violent blonde.

"Well, all it took was an egg from you-we salvaged that when you were in surgery for your neck-and some viable sp-" Lt. Walsh ducked as a silver-gilded ashtray was thrown at his head.

"No! No! I never wanted a child!" Integra groaned slightly as the fog cleared. The Vatican wanted to make sure she didn't have any latent maternal instincts that would pop up when she got wind that her blood was working for the Catholic scum.

"Well, we were bankrupt after paying your prison dues and keeping people quiet. Making terrorist attacks vanish-it's not free. And the Vatican has been losing funding ever since those American priests were found to be child rapists, so they contacted us and we decided to pool together our money for the greater good." He sniffed. "Alessandra Anderson will be a true asset to the world of humans; with the training the Vatican will give her, as well as her own genetic advantage she will excel in her duties." Integra sighed.

"If I take this test-tube abomination to Italy, I'll never have to see her again. Is that right?" When Lt. Walsh nodded, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright. I'll do it."


	2. Chapter 2

The cute blonde three-year-old sat happily on the chair, laughing as Seras Victoria played peek-a-boo with her. If the woman's red eyes deterred the child, she didn't let anyone know, instead clapping her chubby hands every time Seras "reappeared" and copying her. Integra watched for a long moment at the two before Walsh appeared beside her shoulder.

"That girl would have made a good mother one day, if things had gone differently," he observed. "It's amazing, you know. We genetically engineered that child to be a superhuman. She's got the intelligence of an eight-year-old child, at only three. Yet it's clear that on an emotional level, she's still very much a baby. I mean, look at her. An eight-year-old wouldn't be so captivated by a simply game like that, but she is. Science still has a ways to go." Integra glared at him, about to retort exactly where his science could go when the child noticed them. Her pigtails bounced as she swung her head around and Integra noticed the brilliant emerald eyes set deeply into her fair face, acknowledgement of her parentage. She gave a toothy grin and practically fell off of the chair, running pell-mell to latch onto Integra's leg.

"Mother!" she shouted clearly, much too clearly for any toddler. Integra winced and looked pleadingly at Seras, who was clasping her hands and looking as though seeing Integra in turmoil was the most adorable thing she'd ever laid eyes on.

"Am-er, yes… well. I gave you half of my DNA, which technically makes you my offspring, but I am _not _your mother. You will call me Miss Integra." The girl looked up in confusion before her face crumpled slightly. She let go of Integra's leg and hugged herself, looking at the ground. Integra frowned; she hoped the girl wouldn't start crying and make a mess with her snotty nose and other bodily emissions. Seras looked sadly at Integra and her eyes went blank for a moment before frowning and stomping the floor, presumably in reaction to something her master said. She turned and stalked down the stairs to the basement levels. Lt. Walsh looked guiltily at the child before bending down to her level. The girl threw her hands around the old man's neck and sniffed quietly. Lt. Walsh rubbed her back, giving Integra a look that made her want to go hide.

"You be a good girl for Miss Integra. She's going to take you to Italy for me, okay? Promise me you'll behave for her, Alessandra." The girl pulled back, wiped her eyes and nodded. He stood, patting her on the head as he left. "I've already decided that Walter will accompany you. He should be protection enough." He waved and walked out the door, leaving Integra alone with the girl.

"Alessandra Anderson." Well, there was the "AA" part. She drew her lips into a tight line and stared down at the girl, who looked about as uncomfortable as Integra felt. _Come now. At least we can try to make the girl happy enough. An unhappy child is a crying child and we don't need that. _She tried to school some excitement into her voice. "Would you like to-er, come up and help me pack? I suppose you can tell me some more about yourself up there." Integra blinked; she didn't really know of any reason to get to know the child better, but the more she thought the better it sounded. If the child spoke the entire time, then there was no way for Integra to make her cry. And besides, she could tune out the mindless chatter, and once they left Walter could handle it all. It was the perfect plan! She turned to walk away and almost jumped out of her skin when a tiny hand enfolded itself around hers. She instinctively held the hand, looking down at the tiny girl. It wasn't really what she expected. Other children's hands were all sticky and gross, but this little palm was soft and warm. She decided to let it go and led the child to her personal chambers.

* * *

A few moments later, Integra was stuffing things into a suitcase as the girl chattered away, sitting on her vanity chair. It was harder than she thought to drown out the chatter, especially since what the girl said was both knowledgeable and (dare she admit) interesting. Perhaps it was simply because she didn't speak like a lisping toddler that Integra found that she could handle the one-sided conversation without wanting to tear her hair out.

"My name is Alessandra, but everyone except for Mr. Walsh called me Lessie at the labs. You can, too if you want to. I was named Alessandra by the Church people. It's Italian for "defender of mankind". They said that I needed a name to fit my station. I'm supposed to go now to Italy and live with my father in the orphanage. He's going to teach me how to fight bad monsters that hurt little girls and boys. I've never met him, but everyone says he's nice. I learned a lot at the labs about history and math and science. I'm a science project, they said. In fact, sometimes they called me "Topolino". I asked Mr. Walsh what it meant and he said it was Italian for a baby mouse. I guess they meant like the lab rats at the labs. I enjoyed playing with them, but sometimes they got sick and died. I used to hold funerals for them but the scientists starting fighting over what religion I was choosing and so I stopped. I don't like it when people fight."

The girl looked around at the sparse, lilac-colored room. "I like this color on the walls. I'm used to all white, so anything else looks strange." She eyed the busy woman. "Have you met my father?"

"Yes," Integra answered absently as she searched for her "traveling" nightgown.

"Do you like him?" she asked innocently. Integra stood and placed the nightgown neatly into the bag, zipping it up.

"Not at all. He's a bigoted jerk, but you'll be alright because he likes children. He'll teach you to hate heathen nations and monsters alike, and you'll live forever in a Catholic wonderland of blood and secrets." Integra turned and sniffed haughtily, but Lessie didn't catch the snide sarcasm and frowned.

"I don't know what bigoted or heathen means. But I don't like blood. I scraped my knee once and blood came out, and I cried." She held up her leg, which did have a tiny scar on it. Integra stared at the puckered skin. _A regenerator shouldn't have such scars. What happened?_ She knelt down and took the chubby leg from the girl's hands, rubbing a finger over the scar. The smooth skin once again surprised her. "See? It hurt really badly, and the scientists ran a lot of tests. They said that I didn't heal like I was supposed to, but they didn't know why." She jerked her leg back and a strange look crossed her face. "I gotta go to the restroom."

"In a minute. Now, what did the scientists-" the girl shook her head violently, her pigtails swinging.

"Nooooooo!" she howled. "I gotta go now!" Integra sighed and motioned to the bathroom and the girl ran over to the door. When she saw the older woman wasn't coming, she danced in place and held the doorframe. "Come on!"

"Wha-? I am not going in there! Go do your business and come back out here," Integra barked incredulously. The girl winced and whined, bouncing.

"I need your help! Hurry! I can't hold it much longer," she moaned and Integra sighed, looking to the heavens and praying for serenity until she got to Italy. She followed the child into the room and came back out a few minutes later, having added a new #1 to the most embarrassing things she'd ever done in her entire life.

* * *

**Afterword:** And so it begins! Little Lessie is sure to turn Integra's life upside down. O_O  
I'm pulling these incidents out of my own babysitting experiences. I always hated having to help kids in the bathroom. It's really quite… awkward, even though they don't think anything of it.


End file.
